There is nothing like a good piece of pie. The way a truly flaky crust feels on the tongue. The contrast between the mellow crust and the burst of flavor that is the fruit. (The only real pies in my book are double crusted fruit pies. Creams, merigues, custards - those are just gussied up puddings and whatnot.) The smell that floats up as it bakes, that sweet spicy combination of sugar, fruit and nutmeg. The feeling of pride one gets when sharing a good pie with others. I love pie.

Pie lives in the shadow of the showier cakes. Cakes get all the events. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, retirements. They all have cake. Pie, on the other hand, is family gatherings and potluck dinners. It's sitting on the front porch on a cool summer evening, visiting with the neighbors as the kids ride bikes.

Cake may have claimed all of the milestones, but I think pie got the better end of the deal. Pie gets to be part of the true essence of living.

I've got two pies cooling and another in the oven. Why don't you come on over for a slice and chat awhile?